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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371480">Memories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agirllovespancakes/pseuds/Agirllovespancakes'>Agirllovespancakes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Din Djarin Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pancakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:26:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agirllovespancakes/pseuds/Agirllovespancakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Din eats pancakes for the first time. They remind him of his past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It is short but people loved it on Tumblr so why not</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He is silently watching you order those pancakes. Holding the child in his arms while standing still behind you. The line for the stall is long and you hear people murmuring that it takes so long.<br/>“It won’t take long.” You say with a promising tone. He stays quiet, unconvinced. The child starts crying, holding out his hands as if it knows there is food coming. Its big eyes go between you and the stall that is in front of you. <br/>“Are you hungry little one?” You giggle, squeezing the child's hand for a moment before you hear a voice call out your name.<br/>You rush to the stall. Grabbing the pancakes to place them in your basket. You thank the baker before going back to Din and the child. They both watch you with curiosity. <br/>“That is what we have been waiting an hour for?” He asks.<br/>“It is worth it. Oat pancakes with brown sugar and butter.” You tell him enthusiastically. <br/>“I still don’t know what it is. At least we have food now.”</p>
<p>“Din- You frown, - are you crying?”<br/>He closes his eyes. Shaking his head.<br/>“Why, why are you crying? The pancakes are supposed to make you happy.” You push the plates aside, crawling over to him to climb onto his lap. Cupping his face with both your hands you make him look into your eyes. His brown eyes watery, he gives you a soft smile. His calloused hands reach for your sides, shifting you closer to his chest. <br/>“I am not really crying.” He protests. Not sounding convincing. Another tear rolls down his cheek.<br/>“Din?” You speak. <br/>You hear the child waddling closer. Its eyes showing worry it tries to climb onto Din’s lap as well, in between you and Din. Din lets out a choked laugh. His hands petting the child's long ears. He scoops him up to put it between you and him. You look at him. The way he chokes out kind reassuring words to the child, a sadness surrounds him. You don’t understand, not yet at least. He looked fine all day. He is never a man of many words, it is in his way of moving you notice his moods. He seemed to have enjoyed the market, a bit annoyed for waiting so long at the stall. <br/>“You want to talk about it?” Insecure because you don’t want to overstep any boundaries between you. You may have married him a month ago, there were still things you didn’t talk about. <br/>“They reminded me of cookies.” He says, barely audible. A whisper you almost don’t hear. You raise your eyebrows, confused.<br/>“The taste. It is similar to cookies my mother used to bake for us.”<br/>You gasp. Lowering your head you put your forehead against his, you silently tell him you understand. The pancakes were reminding him of a fond memory. A memory he buried so deep it needed a reminder to come up and bloom among other memories. His hands that are holding your sides grip you so tight you almost let out a pained whine. You ignore it, wanting him to feel safe in your hold. You snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The child cries, feeling captured between you both. It holds out a hand, trying to touch din’s face. Your right hand that is still touching din’s cheek, goes down to its hand, holding and squeezing it softly to let it know he is safe. You stay still, like this, all three of you. In silence honoring the memory. Giving him time to relive it, experience it. </p>
<p>The pancakes already turned cold, you still eat them eagerly. He finishes his meal too. You pick up the plates afterwards, ready to leave the small space. He grabs your wrist, turning slowly toward you. <br/>“What?”<br/>“Can we- he looks down, as if he needs encouragement. <br/>You nod at him. “Go back there soon?”<br/>He nods, cracking a ‘yes’.<br/>“We can go back there as much as possible.” You assure him. Putting away the plates as fast as your feet can move, you come back to hold him. He nuzzles in your stomach, his arms around your waist to hold you as close as possible. You lower your hands, moving it through his soft dark hair. Massaging his scalp with your nails. A deep sigh escapes from him and he nuzzles his nose deeper in your stomach. You let out a giggle, feeling it against your skin underneath the thin woven shirt you wear. He does it often, just nuzzling, hugging you. As a way to release his anxiety, worries, complex thoughts he can’t carry any longer. </p>
<p>The child waddles over again. Pulling at his shirt. As Din looks down at the child it sticks out its hands, asking to be lifted. He sobs, letting you go to grab the child carefully to lift it. You look at them lovingly. A moment to memorize and carry deep in your heart.</p>
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